Keeping Secrets
by unstoppableheart
Summary: Layla is left picking up the pieces of her life after Jeff's death. Featuring Layla, Jeff, Luke and a little Rayna, too.
1. Chapter 1

**How I'd write the next Nashville chapter for Layla after Jeff's death.**

"You can do this," she mumbled to herself. Breathe in, breathe out. Put one foot in front of the other. Layla Grant straightened her leather jacket and walked down the corridor at Highway 65. Today marked 42 days since Jeff left her with nothing but a gaping hole deep inside of her. Endless and aching, nothing would or could ever fill that hole. When he died, part of her had died, too, and there was no coming back from that. Ever.

Even so, the world continued on, despite her never ending desire to crawl into bed and never get out. She just wanted to sleep so she wouldn't feel the pain, the heaviness, maybe even hoping to slip away to wherever he was now. But despite her unending path in the lost forests of grief, the fact that Jeff wouldn't want to see her like this pushed her forward when she couldn't gather the strength to think, much less move. It pulled her from the tangle of sheets, dragged her to shower, forced food that felt like lumps of lead down her throat.

She'd known him better than anyone had ever known Jeff Fordham. She knew how wonderful he could be, and how downright awful, too. She didn't doubt his love for her, even if others had. She also didn't doubt his love for himself. No one that loved themselves would take their own life. And maybe no one wanted to believe her, but she hoped she could figure out a way to prove to the rest of the world that he didn't kill himself. To clear all thoughts from everyone's minds that he would do something like that.

Calls to his sister and parents went unanswered. She still smoldered inside that they wouldn't even tell her when the funeral was, or where he was buried. It made the whole thing feel so unsettled, and it gave her no closure, nothing to help her heal. To make matter worse, the Atlanta police wouldn't tell her anything about his death since she wasn't family. She wanted to shout at them, "I was more of a family to him than that group of people with ice in their veins that share his name!" But she just swallowed the words and hung up the phone, and back to the bed she would go. To cry. To wallow. To think. To grieve.

She thought going back to Connecticut for a couple of weeks, to get out of Nashville and away from the memories that haunted every nook of her house, would help. But no. It only made it worse to be away from the familiar with a family still pissed at her about so many of her life choices.

And now, here she was today, the day she'd finally come in to talk to Rayna about her album. Jeff would have probably smacked her by now if he could. So much buzz had hit the internet about the song she'd wrote for him and performed at Luke's concert, and she hadn't returned calls, talked to Rayna, found a new manager, nothing. He'd be so pissed that she hadn't capitalized on the publicity.

"Layla," Rayna's soothing voice washed over her. She stood from her desk and came over to wrap Layla in a comforting hug.

"I'm sorry that I've been MIA for so long," Layla whispered, her throat still gravelly from screaming in the shower that morning when the memory of the last time they'd made love had assaulted her without warning. She hadn't known in Atlanta, when Jeff finally got back from handling the press for Juliette, barely enough time to get ready for Luke's party that evening, that when she surprised him in the shower, hopping in and kissing him wildly before he had a chance to protest the time they did not have, that it would be the last time she'd feel his skin against hers. His hands all over her like he could never get enough.

"Honey, we understand. We don't have to get back to work on your album until you're ready. If you need more time-"

"No, I'm ready to finish the album. I need to get back to work, and try to find something of a normal life again," she told Rayna.

"We can book the studio to finish up those last few tracks as soon as possible. Layla, have you...thought about hiring a new manager yet?" Rayna tried to broach the subject carefully.

"I don't want to replace him," Layla said softly, tears rimming her eyes, "but he wasn't going to be my manager anymore anyway, and I was going to contact Glenn. I just haven't yet," she admitted.

"I think that's a great choice. How bout we call him right now together?" Rayna said, sitting Layla down in a chair and gesturing for an assistant to get her a bottle of water.

Layla nodded.

Twenty minutes later with a new manager and a studio session time booked for the next day, Layla left the Highway 65 office. The sky was overcast and a biting December wind blasted her cheeks as she headed to her car. She should feel at least a little better, right? Instead, all she wanted to do was throw up. Before she could make it to her car, she found the nearest shrub and emptied the minimal contents of her stomach behind it, praying no one witnessed her embarrassing display.

"Layla? You alright?"

Still shuddering, cheeks wet with tears, and huddled over, she recognized the concerned male voice a few feet behind her. The voice and the man played a huge part in the murky memories of those first and most darkest days. She straightened and turned to face him, trying to gather whatever dignity she could.

"I'm fine, Luke. Just a bit overwhelmed, I guess," she said.

Luke stepped over to her and put a firm arm around her shoulders. She remembered the scent of his cologne from the hour she spent crying in his arms on that dreaded flight back to Nashville, leaving Jeff's side forever. The memories were too much after all the energy she'd spent this morning, and she hung her head in defeat.

"Let me take you home, Layla. I don't think you need to be driving," Luke said, more of a command than an offer.

She managed a nod of agreement, thankful for someone to take charge, take care of her. For the first few seconds in 42 days, she didn't feel quite so lost.

"Give me your keys and I'll get my assistant to take your car home later. I was headed in to see Rayna about something, but it can wait," Luke explained as he guided her to his glossy black SUV. He opened the door for Layla and helped her onto the seat. His hands were gentle, his movements quiet.

They rode in silence for several minutes before Luke spoke up again. Layla didn't understand his need to keep talking. She was perfectly fine with the quiet.

"You know, you're not alone in your grief. Jeff was my friend, and I had a lot of respect for him. I saw the good in him, just like you did," he said.

"That means more than you know, Luke. Because I do feel so...alone," she sighed. "Everyone keeps talking about helping me through this, being here to support me, but none of them cared about Jeff. I'm sure they didn't want him to die, but his death didn't affect them, so they don't know how I feel. It's nice to know someone understands a little bit."

Luke reached over and placed his hand reassuringly over hers. "If you ever need to talk, Layla, please call me. You shouldn't go through this by yourself."

The SUV pulled to a stop in front of her house and Luke got out and walked her to her door, despite her telling him he didn't have to do that.

"Well, thanks again for the ride home," she said, stepping inside. He hesitated outside the door, reminding her of another man that stood outside her front door with his heart in his hands on more than one occasion. Her heart constricted. This was too much.

As she went to shut the door, Luke stopped it and reached down to pull her into an embrace. Layla stood there like a stone statue in his arms, so lost, unable to follow what was going on. "Layla, I'm so so sorry, you just don't know," he said, words tense and guilty. He clung to her, and she could feel the torture rolling off of him. Her arms responded, wrapping around him. She may not understand the root, but she understood the pain. The savage gnawing that seemed to radiate from deep within his soul that had something to do with Jeff and with her.

She closed her eyes and gave instead of received comfort. It felt nice to be needed and not pitied for being the stupid, naive girl in love with her dead manager. For her pain to be validated. So when Luke kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then found her lips, her clouded brain didn't stand a chance. Vulnerability and a desperate need to fill that empty ache tugged him inside, headed for the bedroom. But one glance at her bed, the bed she'd shared with her love, and she shook her head, trying to clear away the fuzziness.

"No, stop, no," she whimpered, pressing her hands against his chest. He stepped away from her, looking as shocked and confused as she felt.

"I'm so sorry, Layla. I don't know what got into me. That shouldn't have happened," Luke said as he caught his breath. She heard sincerity, she hoped she did anyway.

"Just leave. Please leave," she said, catching her own breath. She was the one that was sorry. How could she do this to Jeff? To his memory and all that he'd meant to her?

Luke stood there, hesitating before hurrying out the door with a decisive nod.

Layla ran to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. "Jeff, I'm so sorry," she whispered to the empty room, her head swimming, sick to her stomach with betrayal.

"Thanks guys. I think it went pretty great today, and thanks for being available again on such short notice, Glenn," Layla said as she gathered her jacket and bag at the studio two days later. She even managed something sort of like a smile, the facial movement feeling foreign.

"Hey, no problem, Layla. I'm here for you anytime you need it," Glenn replied, patting her shoulder. Glenn was such a nice guy, how could anyone not enjoy having him as a manager? For a fleeting second, she remembered asking Jeff to be her manager, and the sex that followed immediately after he'd agreed. It was their favorite way to celebrate, after all. That was one thing she wouldn't be worried about with Glenn. Definitely no line blurring there.

Leaving the lounge, she practically ran into none other than Luke Wheeler in the studio corridor and there was no avoiding him.

"Um, hi, Luke," she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes as he steadied her.

"Are you recording here today?" Luke asked her, not letting her run away like she really wanted.

"I was, but we've just wrapped until tomorrow. I've got to get my album finished."

"I hope you're including that song from the tribute. I've never heard anything more beautiful," he told her.

"I am." She didn't add how hard it was for her to do that. To share her pain, have the wound ripped open every time she sang those words.

"Layla, I really think we need to talk," Luke said, cutting to the chase.

"I'm sure you do think that, but I assure you, we don't. Just forget what happened. Please," she begged, hurrying around him and to the elevator.

"I can't do that. And I don't think you can either," he said once he'd caught up to her.

The elevator opened and they both stepped inside its private quarters.

"Luke, Jeff was your friend. I know it hurt you that he died, and you get my pain more than anyone else does, but you don't fully understand what I'm going through. We weren't just casually dating- we were moving in together. He was the love of my life, and he's dead. Everything's over for me. I don't want anyone but him, and he's gone. Cruelly ripped from the world. I'm sorry I kissed you the other day- I was weak and tired and sick. I wasn't in my right mind."

"Layla," Luke stepped close to her. At least she didn't feel threatened. "You're right, there's no way I can comprehend how you must feel. And I'm sorry that in my own...sadness, I took advantage of your vulnerability. That was awful of me. That's all I wanted to say. I'm truly sorry," he said, hanging his head.

"We're both in a weird place. Don't beat yourself up, I'm doing enough of that for both of us," she said.

"You know, all weirdness and sadness aside, Jeff would want you to be happy. Just like you'd want him to be happy if the roles were reversed."

"I wouldn't have done this to him!" Layla shouted.

"Do you really believe he did this to himself?" Luke asked.

"No...I don't. But I can't figure out what happened, and no one will talk to me about it."

"I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you can get some answers," he said as the elevator doors opened to the main floor.

Back at home, Layla changed into a pair of sleep pants and a tank top, and made herself a cup of tea, settling in to listen to a couple of artists she'd been wanting to hear from her label. It was the first night she'd decided to do something other than lie in her bed, touching Jeff's pillow she hadn't washed since he'd last slept on it, crying until no more tears would come and sleep tugged at her eyes.

The bluesy rock sound of Marcus Keen filled her ears. She loved his voice, the music, everything was perfect, but the lyrics about lost love were too much to take. She shut the laptop and flung her headphones off.

Jeff had never said he loved her. The three words that every person wanted, needed, to hear. Did she doubt that he'd loved her? No, she didn't. But he'd never said it, and she hadn't either, not to him anyway. She'd wanted him to say it first. Maybe he'd been waiting for her to say it? God, she wished she'd said it now. Even if he'd never say it back.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. Maybe Will was stopping by to check on her. He usually did once or twice a week, and even though she knew she was useless company, she appreciated it.

She padded in her fuzzy socks to the front door and swung it open. It wasn't Will.

"What are you doing here?" she cried in exasperation.

"I'm too worried about you to leave you alone, Layla," Luke explained as he stood on her doorstep.

"I'm not your problem. You don't have to worry about me. You don't owe me anything so stop acting like you do." She crossed her arms.

"Can I come in so we can talk?"

She rolled her eyes, but moved out of the way and gestured for him to step inside.

"I don't know or care what you have to say."

"Layla, I want to be here for you. I don't think you believe me when I say I really do care."

"What reason do you have to care? I know you appreciated Jeff, we established that. But we kissed, and there was every intention for something beyond that to happen if I hadn't stopped. That doesn't seem right to me."

"I can't stop thinking about you, and about what you're going through. You've been on my mind since everything happened, but seeing you so sick at Rayna's office the other day just tore me in two. Besides the fact that I do truly care about you, I feel like I owe it to Jeff to make sure you're alright. He loved you, Layla. If no one else saw that, at least I did. Jeff Fordham before Layla Grant was in his life was a cold-hearted bastard that cared for no one but himself, but when I saw you two together that night at the party, there was a light in his eyes and a smile on his face I'd never seen before."

"Thank you, Luke. That means so much for you to say that- I really needed to hear it" she said, softening. "Can I get you something to drink? Jeff loved whiskey, and I think there's some left in the cabinet."

"Sure, I'll take a glass. I'll even pour it myself. You sit down and relax. Do you want me to get you something?"

She shook her head and watched as Luke Wheeler, country superstar, made himself at home in her tiny old house. He must feel really bad to leave his huge, comfortable mansion and trek across town to her "dingy ass apartment." Jeff had complained so much about this place, but he was always here. Up until those last couple of months when they'd started to spend more time at his house. That would have also been her house. If he hadn't died.

"I would have married him," she said out loud.

Luke paused in the doorway of the kitchen. "Marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Don't I know it, Luke? I was married to someone that turned out to be gay. I don't think it's possible to feel more fooled than I did."

"You think being jilted on your wedding day and the entire thing being spread across the tabloids is a walk in the park?"

"I guess not. I was just thinking about what would've happened if he hadn't died. I do that a lot."

"Layla, I suppose you two would've gotten hitched. He was a different person with you. The Jeff I knew would've never asked just anyone to move in with him. That's serious. More so for him than anyone else."

"That's what I have to believe. Since he never told me he loved me," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Luke lightly touched her cheek before tilting her chin up. "Layla, he loved you. Don't ever doubt it. How could he not love you?"

This time, when he kissed her, she let him kiss away the pain, the ache. She didn't stop him. She let him kiss her until she couldn't think anymore. Until the tangle of their bodies on the couch and the race of her heart left no space, no feelings, nothing but the purely physical need he fulfilled. She wasn't thinking with her mind or with her heart, just her body. For the first time in her limited love life, she understood how one night stands could mean so little.

But an hour later, when she woke on the couch, the warmth of Luke's body beside her, she barely made it to the toilet before violently throwing up. What had she done? Why did she do it? It hadn't even been two months and she was sleeping with someone else?

Her stomach empty, she laid her head on the cold bathtub ledge as tears soaked her cheeks and dripped onto the tile.

"Layla? Are you okay?" Luke's whisper sounded loud and jarring in the silent, echoing bathroom. He flicked on the light and Layla glanced his way, seeing that he'd tossed his boxers back on. She must look quite the sight- naked and leaning against the bathtub, crying her eyes out after sleeping with him.

"No, I'm not," her voice quivered. Luke came over and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as he carried her to her bed and tucked her into the covers. He wiped her face with a cool cloth and kissed her forehead.

"You don't have to be alright. You don't have to have everything figured out, but I'm here for you and I'm not leaving. Sleep well, I'll be on the couch," he said quietly, lightly touching her cheek before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and closing the doors behind him.

Despite the tumble of thoughts that she was sure would keep her up and racked with guilt all night, a heavy mantle of sleep fell on her nearly immediately. When she woke the next morning, the clock beside her bed showed that it was nearing eleven. She'd slept half the day away and still felt like she could sleep more!

She saw the note sitting on her bedside table and for a split second, she'd forgotten all the terrible turmoil, and she was back to a couple of months ago when Jeff left a note when he'd had to leave earlier than he'd expected to head on the road again with Juliette. But that wasn't the case and it all came flooding back to her. In a ridiculous attempt to mask over her pain, she'd slept with Luke last night.

She picked up the note.

 _Layla,_

 _I didn't want to wake you, but I had to head to an appearance this morning, and I'm heading back out on the road tomorrow morning. I'd really like to see you tonight. We need to talk about what's happening._

 _Luke_

"Nothing is happening, Luke!" she shouted to no one. Did he not understand that she no longer had a heart to give away? It was buried somewhere in New York in a cemetery she vowed to find one day soon. What was Luke's angle? Why was he seemingly so obsessed with her all of a sudden? And why, oh why, had she gone and slept with him?

Layla got up and hopped into the shower, deciding the best course of action was to avoid him altogether. He was going out on tour and maybe he'd just forget about what happened last night if she put some distance between them. God knows, she wanted to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

_Three weeks later_

For the third morning in a row, Layla found herself on her knees hugging the toilet as wave after wave of nausea washed over her. When she finally felt comfortable enough to stand and not pass out or throw up, she rinsed her face off and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and her skin looked pale and felt clammy to the touch.

She wasn't an expert on the subject, but she had a feeling something was up. Something she dreaded to admit. She crossed her arms across her chest and winced at the telltale soreness.

Nausea, tenderness, exhaustion...and when was the last time she'd had a period? Between the grief, crazy recording schedule, and sparse eating habits, she couldn't even begin to remember her last one...Not since Jeff...wait. Or was it? So many weeks blurred together that the last one she for sure remembered was when Jeff had been on the road with Juliette and she was glad it hadn't interfered with anything. But that was months ago. Surely, she'd had one since then and just didn't remember.

It's not like they hadn't taken precautions. They were both pretty good about being responsible. Well, except for that one time a few weeks before Atlanta. He'd hurried back to Nashville after they hadn't seen each other in two weeks. He'd called her that morning- Juliette was taking a couple of days off and he was hopping on a plane in Dallas. He had to see her, missed her too much. When he'd knocked on the door, she'd ran to answer it, jumping onto him, hands in his hair, kisses landing any and everywhere as they'd practically attacked each other. Clothes started coming off and his zipper was down before he'd had a chance to fully shut the door, much less slide on a condom. They'd stared at each other wide-eyed afterward.

"Did we just..." she'd started, still beneath him on the living room floor. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom.

"Um, yeah. I think we did," Jeff confirmed, raising himself onto his elbows.

"Oh my," she whispered, a mixture of thrill and fear coursing through her veins, her heart still beating wildly from sex.

"What's the likelihood of...you know," he'd asked casually.

"Not likely," she guessed. What else would she say? The chance really was minimal, even if they'd been trying. She'd read that in a magazine somewhere- how there was only like a 20 percent chance a woman could get pregnant every month if all conditions were perfect. A one time slip up was hardly perfect conditions.

"Too bad," he'd said with a wink.

"You don't mean that," she pouted, his jibe unintentionally rubbing her the wrong way.

"Layla, come on. Let's save this conversation for a date and time in the far off future. You don't want a baby right now. Your career is just taking off," he'd explained, trying to soothe her and reason with her.

"But what if I did get pregnant? Would you at least be a little happy?"

He'd sat up and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head beneath his chin. She could hear his heart beating beneath her ear.

"Happy? I don't know how I would feel- I've never thought about it. I know that I would try to be a good dad. But hey, I promised you I wouldn't leave you, and I mean it. I can't live without you, babe. So you don't need to try and get pregnant to keep me, okay?" His teasing culminated with a kiss to her neck and they'd gotten up and moved to the bed near the supply of condoms in the drawer, the conversation forgotten.

And then there was that one other time in the shower in Atlanta. Their last time together when she'd taken him by surprise and the combination of heat, hurry and the excitement of moving in together made protection the last thing on either of their minds and neither of them had cared. Something about the surety of knowing their future together and his basic guarantee of becoming Luke's CEO made it not seem like such a big deal. Neither she nor Jeff mentioned it afterward and he'd held her a little longer than normal, too, especially for still being in the shower.

"Layla, you mean the world to me," he'd murmured against her neck before kissing her again during one of the most intimate moments of their relationship.

"Right back at you," she'd replied, taking his face in her hands and finding his lips with hers as the spray of the shower rained over them.

Unfortunately, also now nagging at the back of her mind was the more recent incident with Luke, who had, of course, used protection, but what if the condom broke? She hated that she couldn't completely rule out the possibility that he could have gotten her pregnant.

She studied her pale reflection in the mirror. First things first. She'd have to get a test to even make sure that what she suspected was true. She'd wait for absolute confirmation before she'd worry about who the father was- her dead lover or the reigning king of country.

She stared down at the line of tests on the bathroom counter. Seven for seven. Various plus signs, double lines and the blaring word "pregnant" stared back at her. Layla put her head in her hands, overwhelmed. So many emotions flooded over her and processing this huge revelation through the veil of grief and guilt she wore proved more difficult than anything she'd faced since Jeff's passing.

She was pregnant. Carrying someone's child. She placed a hand over her stomach, knowing that deep within her, a baby was forming. From somewhere near where her heart used to be, she felt the first spark of hope when she realized that it was very possible a part of Jeff lived on inside of her.

"Please be Jeff's baby, please be his," she said aloud. No other rational thoughts ran through her mind. She wouldn't think about the impact on her career, the slim possibility that it could be Luke's, or how she'd have to raise the baby on her own. All she could think about was Jeff's baby. _Their_ baby. A love child.

She hugged her belly and for the first time in months, she really smiled.

But with the dawn of a new day and another bout of morning sickness, reality began to settle in. What was she going to do? She was alone. Still working on an album that hadn't dropped yet and she hadn't booked a gig in over two months. If she had a huge following and a sold out tour, a pregnancy wouldn't be the end of the world. It might even boost a career. But it just made her, Layla Grant, indie country artist, a harder sale than she already was.

So no one was going to find out about this baby until she couldn't hide it any longer. She'd visit her doctor, have them sign nondisclosure agreements and make sure everything checked out okay as soon as possible, but other than the doctor, she would tell no one her secret.

Thankfully, a quick call into her doctor and a studio session rearrangement and she had an appointment for that same afternoon. She wanted to know how many weeks pregnant she was. Most people could figure this out easy enough, but most people hadn't recently lost their lover and lived in a haze where dates and time didn't seem relevant enough to remember.

At her doctor's office, Layla gave Dr. Abell, the ob/gyn she'd started seeing when she first married Will another lifetime ago, all the information she could, and a urine and blood sample, too. Twenty minutes later, Dr. Abell came back into the examination room with the news that wasn't really news to her.

"Layla, you're pregnant," she said without frills.

"I know. What I want to find out is how far along I am and if everything is alright," Layla explained, fidgeting on the exam table, the paper gown rustling in protest.

"Let's take a look and find out," Dr. Abell said, putting on a pair of gloves and gesturing for Layla to lie back as she picked up the ultrasound wand. When Layla was on her back, the doctor lifted the top portion of the gown and squirted too warm jelly all over Layla's stomach.

Layla took a deep breath and bit her lip as the doctor moved the wand over her belly. She watched as the screen lit up, and an image that looked already very much like a little baby displayed across the monitor. She'd expected a blip, a blob, a little foreign looking thing. Not something so clearly defined with legs and arms and hands and a cute little profile.

"Ohhh," Layla breathed as the sound of the strong, fast little baby heartbeat filled the room. The doctor took scans and typed a few things on the monitor.

"Everything looks good, Layla. Based off the measurements, I'd put you at roughly 12 weeks, give or take a few days. Does that sound about right to you?" She eyed Layla.

"Yes, that sounds perfectly right," Layla said, a tear slipping from her eye as she watched her and Jeff's baby move around on the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

"Layla, I'd really like to see you again. It's been a month," Luke's voice said on the other end of the phone. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she fussed with her leather jacket. Standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she turned from side to side, making sure she looked alright from every angle. She'd lost so much weight from not being able to eat much and constantly battling morning sickness that she actually appeared a little bit too thin. But things were different now, though, and she made sure to eat healthy and drink plenty of water since finding out about the baby- even if it meant it might come back up ten minutes later.

"Luke, nothing personal, but I don't think it's a good time for me right now," Layla replied, tugging at the waist of her black skinny jeans. Opening for The Exes tonight at the Ryman meant she needed to look young, hip and definitely not pregnant.

"I think it's important for you to have a life, Layla. Jeff would've wanted that, too. I'm not necessarily asking you out. Hell, to be honest, I'm not one to keep pursuing someone that's shot me down so many times, but I can't seem to stop myself- I want to be a part of your life, mainly to make sure you're okay, but also to tell you the truth, I could use a good friend myself right now, too."

"Hey, if you need a friend to talk to, I'm here, Luke, but as for me, I've told you a hundred times already- I'm doing fine. Better every day. I still miss him like crazy, and I'm always going to, but I'm making a point to put one foot in front of the other and live life. I'm playing at the Ryman tonight, my album comes out in two weeks, and I'm leaving to open on Rayna's tour around that time, too. You're a great guy, but I really do have a lot going on, and I don't think it's fair to promise something to you that I can't fulfill," she explained.

"Just be willing to think about it, okay? I'm in town, so I might swing by the Ryman to see your set if that's alright with you."

"Of course, that's alright, Luke," she said a little softer. It's not like she hated the guy- she just didn't want to be best friends or date him. Why he was so dead set on being a part of her life puzzled her. Was she, like, catnip for older men? First Jeff, now Luke. But where Jeff lit her on fire, her blood sizzling in her veins, craving more of him despite knowing how bad he was for her, Luke felt safe. Predictable. He seemed to be a pretty good guy, but it just wasn't there for her, and no matter how much she tried to tell him that, he kept coming back for more.

"I'll see you later, then," Luke said before hanging up. She briefly wondered what Rayna would think about her ex-fiance, who owned his own label, blatantly pursuing her. It might bother her worse than when she'd found out about her and Jeff's relationship.

Layla sighed and subconsciously rested a hand on her flat stomach. She had other, more important, stuff to think about now. As happy as she was to have a part of Jeff still with her, this baby wasn't going to make things easy on her. At some point in the not too distant future, she'd start to show. Based off of her internet research and her frame, she figured she'd start showing next month and wouldn't be able to keep it a secret too long after that. The inevitable reveal would land smack dab in the middle of her touring schedule.

Not going out on tour wasn't an option, though. As a soon-to-be single mother, she needed the money, and a strong album release and tour would ensure she'd have enough saved for a few months maternity leave. She still wasn't sure how she would tell people about the baby, but as long as she took care of herself and did at least half of her set sitting down, she'd keep it a secret as long as possible.

" _Some nights I can't sleep at all. I lie awake with my eyes closed,"_ her voice rang out with emotion. The last song of her set brought to the surface so many feelings; never failing to bring back the pain of those first days without him. But the song was a clear fan favorite and she ended up playing it every time she performed. So many people told her or wrote to her about how the song meant so much to them. So even though it hurt, she sang it, knowing it might help someone get through the pain of losing someone.

As she hurried off stage while applause still rang out, she caught sight of Luke standing beside Glenn. She gave him a quick nod and smile before handing off her guitar to one of the crew members and taking a bottle of water from another.

"Incredible. Still takes my breath away," Luke leaned down to tell her after quickly making his way to her side. She glanced over to where Gunnar and Scarlett stood talking with Rayna as they waited for the crew to switch out the set.

"He still takes my breath away," she whispered, closing her eyes briefly, wistful for a love that she'd never know again. Would she ever be able to move on? _No. Not with his baby on the way. He'd always be with her now._

"It's good that you're getting back out on the road. Your career is going nowhere but up, honey," Luke said, paying no mind to her sacred Jeff moment. He stuck his hands in his pockets, keeping a casual stance.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence! It was nice of you to stop by and see the show tonight by the way," she added, scooting past him to head to her dressing room. He followed her.

"Hey, what do you say to us going to grab a cup of coffee?" he asked as she stepped inside her dressing room. She turned to face Luke, her hand resting on the door.

"You're really not going to stop until I give in are you?" Layla said, finally exasperated.

"Nope. I don't think so. Think about though-since...everything happened...who have you spent time with?"

She studied the lines on his face, seeing an edge of weariness lying just beneath his generally chipper personality. "I see Will usually about once a week, and Glenn, Rayna and Bucky pretty regularly."

"So, your ex-husband, your manager and your label execs."

"Well, when you put it like that, of course it doesn't sound that great, but I don't doubt that each of the people I named all care about my well-being," she defended.

"I don't doubt that either, but your support team is small and are you really any of their number one priorities?"

"What about you? Who can you call a friend?" Layla spat back.

"I've made a lot of bad choices with the people in my life lately, and that's one of the reasons why I'm not going to let you isolate yourself. It isn't good to go through tough times all by yourself. Trust me, I'm living it out right now."

"Luke, I'm as fine as someone in my situation could be. Am I sunshine and roses? No, but I'm starting to smile again, and not cry myself to sleep every night. Every once in a while, I can even think about Jeff without wanting to crumple in a corner with my head in my hands. I'm not going to be okay tomorrow. Or next week. Or next month. But I know at some point I will be okay, and if going to have coffee with you will reassure you that that is indeed the case, then let me get my stuff together and we can head to Crema. Okay?"

Luke lifted his hands in surrender. "That's all I was asking," he smiled.

" _Why don't you ever order a drink like a grownup? I swear, you never have a drink that isn't pink or purple or has a ton of fruity shit in it," Jeff complained. She frowned at him as they sat side by side in a booth waiting for her interview with another blogger since the visit with the first one hadn't turn out...so well._

" _I like what I like. I can't help that you're old and like to look all serious and brooding while you nurse a whiskey."_

" _You do understand from a business point of view, your indie artist image would be so much stronger if you were holding whiskey straight up or even a craft beer of some kind. Not that fruity thing named after sex somewhere. Geez, Layla." He rolled his eyes at her._

 _She punched the side of his leg beneath the table. "Why are you being such a jerk?" she hissed._

" _Ow. I'm not being a jerk. I'm being your manager. Remember? That's all I am to you now." He looked away and took a big gulp of his drink while she absorbed his biting remark. She'd hurt him by putting a stop to their fling, but he'd only said that he wanted to "try" to love her. What did that even mean?_

" _I'll order a beer," she relented, waving their server over, not in the mood to go down the ever lengthening road of unresolved issues between them at that moment._

" _Thank you," he said with a satisfied nod._

" _You're welcome." She rolled her eyes._

"Are you ready to order?" Luke asked her as they stood at the counter. Literally nothing sounded good to her. All the sweet, syrupy low caffeine concoctions would be instant nausea inducers, and decaf coffee grossed her out and gave her heartburn. She glanced around the cafe trying to remember where the bathroom was.

"I'll just have a sparkling water with a pinch of ginger and a side of lemon if you have it," she told the barista, whose piercing gaze and arched eyebrow unsettled her, but the girl entered the order without question. It's not like she was trying to be a diva that came to a coffeehouse to order a water that wasn't even on the menu, but maybe that's what it looked like.

"And I'll have a regular old cup of black coffee, please," Luke added, handing the woman a twenty dollar bill and waving away the change. They picked up their drinks and headed to a booth near the back of the cafe.

After a few minutes of casual small talk, Luke cleared his throat. "I think we need to talk about what happened the last time we were together." He took a sip of his coffee, waiting for her response.

"That's an icebreaker if I ever heard one," she murmured before continuing, " I don't think that's the best idea. I was in a really dark place, and it took days for me to come to terms that we had slept together. Put yourself in my shoes, Luke. Have you ever had a girlfriend or wife abruptly die? Your relationship being over is a choice forced upon you. You're broken up by death. Feelings don't die, fights aren't fought- you have to deal with the love of your life being violently stripped from your life.

"So, when we slept together, it felt like I cheated on Jeff and spit on everything I treasured. It seemed so wrong and it's hard for me to get past that, Luke. I'm sorry," she told him. She patted his hand resting on the top of the table.

"I see what you mean, Layla, and I'm sorry I was so insistent with you. From here on out, I'll back off- I promise. But remember, I do care about you. A lot. No one should have to go through what you're going through, especially alone. But I'm going to put the ball in your court. If you want to be friends and spend some time together, I'm a phone call away if I'm in town and a plane ride one way or the other if I'm not," he smiled, but his eyes were tinged with sadness.

She squeezed his hand that still rested on the table. "Hey, I want you to know that I appreciate you. You really are a wonderful man, Luke- so sincere and kind. I just can't even begin to think about any of this right now. If I were in a place to start thinking about it, I'd probably be head over heels for you," she said, thinking maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to mean that one day.


	4. Chapter 4

_One Month Later_

Layla paced pensively in the little bit of private space the bedroom on the tour bus she shared with Gunnar and Scarlett afforded. Every time she glanced up and caught her reflection in the mirrored wall, she bit her lip and a deep worry line appeared between her eyebrows. She rubbed at it, trying to smooth it away, but it wasn't going anywhere. Time was up way earlier than she'd planned. She'd originally figured she'd be able to hide it for at least another month, but this baby was intent on growing and none of her clothes fit right anymore.

"Layla, you've added a few inches here and there," her stylist said this morning. "We are going to need to rework several of your outfits to accommodate. Don't take that the wrong way- I'm glad. You were getting a bit too skinny in my opinion, and it's nice to see you back at a healthy weight and a little bit of a healthy glow on your cheeks..." the stylist trailed off.

"Oh, um yeah, my appetite's back and I can't seem to stop eating!" she joked. Her cheeks were fuller, boobs bigger and a small, firm bulge sat just below her waist. She looked different and people wouldn't have to think too hard or for too long to catch on to the reason behind the change. Tabloids even made a game out of spotting baby bumps.

"That's definitely a baby bump," Layla said as she pulled her shirt tight and traced the curve of her typically flat belly with her fingertips. She took a seat on the bench by the window and pulled her phone out, placing a call to someone she hadn't spoken to in quite a while.

"Hello, stranger," Luke's warm voice greeted after the second ring.

"Um, hi. I know this is out of the blue, but I really need a sounding board, and I was wondering if you could meet me to discuss something and maybe offer up some advice on the best way to handle it?" she asked, wasting no time with small talk.

"Uh sure, Layla. Of course. I told you I'd be here for you and I meant it. Do you want me to swing by your house or meet you somewhere for a drink?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing. I'm actually in Des Moines at the moment," she admitted, her face wincing for his response. He was so busy- she was crazy to think he'd drop everything to meet her. This sensitive situation, however, wasn't something she wanted to discuss over the phone.

"I have a board meeting in thirty, but I'll get the plane fueled up and be waiting for you after your show," he said with no hesitation.

"Really, Luke? You will? That's so sweet, you're the best," she said with enthusiasm. For a second, she forgot the nature of her call to him, but then she stood up and caught her reflection in the mirror again.

"I'll see ya tonight, Layla."

She hung up the phone after saying goodbye, hoping he'd be able to help her come up with a good solution as to how to handle her unplanned pregnancy with her fans and her label.

"Heyyy, so glad you came, Luke," Layla smiled and ran over to him when she saw him coming down the hallway backstage.

"Sorry I missed your set," he replied, pulling her into a hug.

"I'm just happy you're here," she assured him. He smiled down at her and she swallowed.

"You look...different. Did you change your hair?" he asked.

"Nope, nothing's changed." She shrugged as she stepped out of his embrace. She continued, "Since I'm finished for the night, let's find somewhere a little more private to talk."

Luke chuckled. "If you say so, Layla."

"No! I don't mean like that," she rested a hand on his arm, imploring him with her eyes, "I'm serious."

"I know, sweetie. You lead the way."

He followed her down the hall and outside to the buses. She stepped onto hers and the Exes bus.

"It's been a long time since I've been on a tour bus," Luke remarked as he stepped inside behind her.

"Well, there's not much to it, but it's empty right now," she said, taking a seat on the sofa bench and patting the spot beside her.

"So what's on your mind, girl?" he asked as he sat down, stretching an arm along the back of the seat.

"Luke, I don't know how to tell you this. It's kind of awkward, but I didn't know who else to turn to right now for help. Rayna is my boss, so talking to her could affect this tour and my career. Scarlett and Gunnar are my friends, but they're also co-workers...I don't have the greatest relationship with my family-"

"No need to explain, Layla. I'm here and you know I care. What's going on?" he interrupted her.

She took a deep breath and sighed.

"I found out that I'm pregnant-"

Before she could finish the rest of her announcement, Luke had pulled her to him and started peppering her with questions. "Really? You are? How long have you known? I can't believe you haven't told me yet. Wow, I'm going to be a dad again."

Layla's eyes grew wide as he held her in his arms. He thought the baby was his? While still speechless and yet to answer any of his questions, Luke continued on.

"I'm floored, Layla, but I want you to know that I'll be here every step of the way- here for everything you need. I'll take care of you, I promise" and with those words, with his soothing arms around her, Layla rested her head against his chest and decided to let the lie unfold- driven by a mix of fear and uncertainty about her future and career. What would people think if they found out she was pregnant by her dead lover who'd only been publicly known as her boyfriend for less than a handful of days? Her career- everything Jeff had worked for- would be over before it began.

At least Luke was alive, and would help keep her career on track, and if she got to the point where she couldn't work for awhile, he would take care of her. Her baby would have a father in it's life. She could be content being the only one who knew the truth.

"Thanks, Luke. I'm just in shock right now, you know?" she murmured.

"When's the baby due?"

"I think around the middle of August," she lied, biting her lip as she shamefully tacked on a month and a half to her real due date that fell on the thirtieth of June. _Forgive me, Jeff._


	5. Chapter 5

MAY 2016

She swallowed the lump in her throat as Luke zipped up the back of her navy evening gown, which fit her like a glove and placed her over eight months pregnant belly on full display beneath muted sequins and lace. His hands lingered on her back, warm and reassuring. With a stomach full of butterflies and baby, she tried to relax as she smoothed down a couple of flyaways that strayed from her long and loose curls. As she lifted her hand to tame another strand, the huge diamond weighing down her left hand drew her gaze. Even though Luke had placed it there well over a month ago, she doubted she'd ever get used to seeing it on her finger.

He slid his arms around her body and rested his hands lovingly over the baby, who shifted and kicked beneath the gentle pressure. Layla smiled in spite of herself. No matter how hard she tried to stay indifferent to Luke's affection and keep her heart out of the mix, his gentle sweetness and blatant adoration of a baby yet to be born revived her in ways she certainly hadn't expected.

""You ready for your big night?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"As ready as I can be," she replied, studying her image. Just two years ago, not in her wildest dreams would she have thought that she'd attend her first award show nomination very pregnant and engaged to Luke Wheeler of all people. Maybe it never occurred to her because she was married to Will at the time. So many life changes in so little time!

This night was hard enough with Jeff not being there to celebrate their combined hard work that had gotten her to this place. But being here in LA, nominated for the iHeartradio Country Song of the Year for her single "Blind"- the song Jeff leaked for her-while letting the world and Luke Wheeler assume that the baby she carried was his, felt horrifically wrong on so many levels. Just then, the baby kicked and guilt tapped on her shoulder, creeping its way in like it did so often lately.

She'd really meant to simply tell Luke about her pregnancy almost four months ago so he could help her figure out how to handle it from a label head point of view, and to also help him understand why she wasn't going to be interested in him at any point. But after she'd said "I'm pregnant," and before she could get out, "with Jeff's child," he'd pulled her tight against his chest and wrongfully assumed the baby was his and never questioned otherwise, strangely enough. No wonder she felt guilty so often.

"Good thing the award show was early enough for you to still be able to travel out here to attend," Luke pointed out, rubbing her shoulders.

"I know. Country Song of the Year is a huge deal, and I'd have hated to miss it," Layla remarked, slipping from Luke's hands and stretching her back. "I'm nervous about the red carpet," she admitted, "All anyone's going to want to talk about is my pregnancy. It hasn't been too hard to keep it a secret for the most part in Nashville, but the cat will officially be out of the bag tonight. Plus, having you as my fiance, Luke Wheeler, has them all abuzz." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, maybe we're what they call a whirlwind romance, but this baby right here is all the explanation they need as to why I was impatient to get a ring on my pretty girl's finger. Don't get too caught up in what they have to say- this is your last trip before the baby and you need to enjoy it," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. The baby shifted and she rubbed the tender spot.

"Do you mind giving me just a minute alone before we head out? It's such a big night and I need to clear my mind," she explained.

Luke planted a kiss along the tips of her fingers he still held. "Take all the time you need, I'll go get a drink at the bar downstairs. Text me when you're ready to leave," he said with a wink.

After Luke left, she perched on the edge of the suite's sofa and took several deep breaths, trying not to hyperventilate.

"This is a wonderful night. You are in a really good place. You are blessed," she told herself, trying with all of her might to push aside thoughts of Jeff. At least for the night. He'd want her to be happy, and even if no one ever knew it but her, a part of him lived on through this child. Her secret had to be enough for her. She just had to get through this show without tearing up for him. _Please, no one ask me about my manager that died last year. Please._

She stood, squaring her shoulders with fresh resolve before walking out of the elegant suite. In the hotel's lobby, when Luke looked up from his spot near the bar and saw her stepping off of the elevator, his eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face. Layla ducked her head. It was nice to be someone's sunshine. Especially after so much darkness.

"Ready to go, gorgeous?" He asked, offering his arm.

"Yes, finally," she said pointedly. His eyes widened and he leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

"Do you mean it? I'd wait forever if I had to and that's okay," he said quietly. Layla searched his face and found nothing but love and concern there. This man knew she'd already given her heart away, even though she'd tried to pretend otherwise, and he loved her despite that fact- to the point he'd already asked her to marry him. She must really be a terrible actress for him to be so aware of her true feelings...and so undeserving of that kind of love.

"Luke, I'm yours. I mean it," she said with only the slightest of hesitations. She tilted her chin and closed her eyes to welcome his kiss.

"Well, alrighty then." His voice cracked when he finally lifted his head, but his smile stretched from ear to ear.

"Layla, have you had morning sickness?"

"Layla, is it a boy or a girl?"

"Layla, will the wedding be before or after the baby is born?"

"Layla Grant, pregnancy looks good on you."

"Luke and Layla! Congratulations!"

"Are you two living together now?"

"When did you two start dating?"

"Are you over the moon about the upcoming "Wheels Up" baby?"

"So what was the inspiration behind your hit song "Blind"?

Wait. What? She snapped to attention when halfway down the pressline, someone _finally_ asked her about the song for which she'd been nominated.

"Well, truthfully, if you've followed my story, you know that my first husband, Will Lexington, came out last year. I wrote "Blind" while I was processing a lot of those feelings. Will and I are wonderful friends now and I care about him so much, but the brief marriage and our divorce was a painful time for me," she replied. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Luke continuing down the pressline.

"I can imagine. Many people say a lot of credit is due to your late manager, Jeff Fordham, for your success. Would you agree? Weren't you two briefly dating before he passed away last year? How did his death affect you professionally and personally?" Layla barely heard the last of the rapid fire questions as her mind closed out the painful assault. She lowered her eyes, staring at the deep blue sequins and the red carpet. She couldn't see her feet- Jeff's baby had blocked her view for weeks now.

"Layla?" The reported prompted, taking her attention away from her distraction methods that usually kept her from breaking down.

"Hmm? Oh, I-I still can't talk about that. He meant too much to me, and I can't go there yet. I'm not feeling so well if you'll excuse me, please," Layla choked out before hurrying away as fast as her low heels, blocked by baby and gown, would carry her.

Congratulations on your nomination, and the engagement and baby, as well," the smartly dressed reported called out to her retreating train. Layla threw a half wave as she caught up to Luke, who was chatting with E! about his latest project.

"I really need to sit down for a minute," a woozy Layla whispered to Luke. Overwhelmed by the throngs of people and rattled by that reporter's probing questions, if she didn't take a minute to sit, breathe and gather herself, she'd faint. Her legs wobbled as she gasped for breath.

"I've got you, baby. Let's find you somewhere to take a break and put your feet up." Luke put a firm arm around her waist and pulled her through the Staples Center's entrance. He didn't let go of her as he spoke briefly with one of the event coordinators. And within five minutes, he had her in a private suite with her feet propped up and the lights down low.

"You're too good to me," she whispered, leaning her head back as she fanned her face with a magazine from the end table, trying to cool down.

"Hey, it pays to be the king of country," he laughed, "But seriously, it's my job to make sure you have whatever you need while you're carrying our little one." He laid one hand on the rise of her belly and caressed her cheek with the other.

"Why don't you go mingle and have fun while I rest here for a few minutes. I'll be good to go in no time at all," she smiled.

"I'll just go down the hall and say hello to a few artists I know. But, hey just a heads up so you'll be aware- I think I saw Jade St. John a few minutes ago," he mentioned carefully. Layla clenched the edge of the sofa. That woman conjured up so many memories- both good and bad. All involving Jeff, and many involving Luke, too.

"I really hope I don't run into her," Layla told him, eyes wide.

"I hope you don't either," Luke admitted, "I'll try to keep an eye out for her and make sure she doesn't get too close to you."

"Thank you, Luke. It isn't like I have a problem with her. Everything is just so...tied together when it comes to her, you know?" Her voice quivered.

"I know, Layla. You don't have to explain." He kissed her forehead and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Immediately, tears seeped down her temples, her hair growing damp as she could no longer hold in the overflow of emotion. She threw her arm over her eyes. She'd have to do some serious repair work to her makeup, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

Here she was, crying in a room alone on what should be one of the happiest nights of her life. Just hearing that woman's name, knowing she'd been engaged to the love of her life and had _thrown him away_ like yesterday's news ripped open too many freshly patched wounds. She didn't get the chance to even hear "I love you" from his mouth and that woman got to wear his ring.

She heard the door open.

"Luke, just give me a couple more minutes to get myself together," she sniffled, not bothering to pull her arm away.

"Is that baby mine?"

Layla's universe flipped over. She flung away her arm and struggled to sit up as her pregnant body refused to cooperate as fast as she wanted.

Eyes wide, all words, breath and sound couldn't leave her throat.

"Layla, answer me," he pleaded, his heart in his eyes, standing near the door he'd just closed again.

"Jeff?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.


	6. Chapter 6

What could she say? A ghost stood in front of her. A ghost, who in his black tie, with his perfectly tousled hair and those eyes of his that never left her dreams, looked very much alive and well. She stood unsteadily, and he ran to her, pulling her into a desperate embrace, tight and consuming.

"You're dead and now I'm officially going crazy," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. She wanted to cry, jump, scream, kiss him until she couldn't breathe, which wouldn't be for long these days, but all that would make her certifiable for the nuthouse. Instead, she clung to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck, the way she'd done a thousand times before...

"Damn it, Layla! I'm not dead. But you sure as hell are pregnant." His voice, low and angry, hissed the words near her ear.

Pregnancy hormones flared, blocking all other more rational thoughts and emotions. She pushed her hands into his chest, shoving away from him and taking a few steps back.

"Are you kidding me right now? You're MAD AT ME?" She shouted, ready to really lay into him, but instead, got dizzy and had to find the couch so she wouldn't fall. Her hand searched for something to grab.

Jeff hurried to her side, helping her ease back down onto the sofa. With the touch of his hands on her bare arms and the warmth of him so close, all anger rushed out of the both of them. He leaned his forehead against hers, and she started to cry. He held her face in his hands, wiping the tears away and kissing her cheeks as he held her.

She whispered his name over and over. Explanations could wait. HE was pushing the hair out of her eyes, kissing her and holding her close. This was heaven. She must have died. Being in his arms was something she never thought she'd experience again. That was a fact. Or so she thought. A sharp, strong kick promptly reminded her that she was most certainly not dead.

Jeff jumped and leaned back on his knees right in front of her. His eyes were round. He'd felt the baby's kick, too.

"Layla, I need you to tell me if this baby is mine," he said again, a lot gentler than he had a few moments earlier as his eyes intently searched hers.

"Yes, of course, it's our baby. I'm 34 weeks." His face registered confusion. "That's eight and half months. There's no doubt at all," she spelled out, fearful of his reaction.

He sat stone still, his face giving her no indication as to what he was thinking or feeling. She, however, felt like a crazy person about to burst with a need to know...everything. After a moment of contemplation, he stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the sofa as Layla leaned against the sofa cushions to rest her aching back, placing a hand subconsciously on her belly. Jeff glanced at her hand, the one with the big diamond ring, resting on top of his baby.

"I'm just wondering what gives Luke Wheeler, and the rest of the world now it seems, reason to believe that your baby is his," Jeff said bitingly. Of course, true to character, he decided to be jealous right now.

"You idiot! I thought you were dead!" She exploded, getting up none too gracefully to block his pacing. She smacked him in the chest. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE PAIN YOU PUT ME THROUGH? THE HURT? We were supposed to be moving in together. Will had to help me UNPACK the boxes. Then, in the midst of the worst pain I've ever known, I find out I'm pregnant with your baby. I didn't eat. I couldn't sleep. And all you're concerned about is my relationship with Luke?"

He glanced down at her face streaked with tears, red with fury, and resisted the urge to kiss her. He sighed.

"Calm down, Layla. You're right, I'm sorry. You deserve to know what happened, and I hate that I had to put you through all of this. I had no clue that you were pregnant until about twenty minutes ago when I saw the feed from the red carpet. I would've already tried to get in touch with you if I'd here's where I'm having a little trouble- if you're that far along, that means you got pregnant, what...before Atlanta?" The color drained from his face. "Did you already know?" he croaked out.

She quickly shook her head. "I didn't know- I was barely pregnant then, and I was so upset after you supposedly died that I didn't notice the symptoms for a quite a while."

"But why does Luke think the baby is his?"

"He thinks I'm just over seven months along. I..slept with him about a month and a half after you were gone."

"Layla, you're huge. Like ready to have a baby tomorrow huge- are you sure it's even safe for you to be traveling like this? And Luke knew we were together... and he hasn't questioned the timing?"

"Nope. He hasn't. And travel is iffy, but what am I supposed to do? He thinks I'm not as far along as I am."

Jeff's brow furrowed. "You should've made something up! Or told the truth- it's mine! Hell, I don't know, but you shouldn't put your health or our baby's at risk like that!"

Despite the glare being shot at her and the anger smoldering behind her own eyes, a smile crept it's way onto her face.

"What could you possibly find amusing right now?"

"You just said 'our baby,'" she grinned.

"You're really easy to distract. Did you know that?" he said, rolling his eyes. "I just wish I would've known before now. You guys did a good job of keeping it out of the news."

"It's not like I could've told you since, you know, I and the rest of Nashville assumed you were dead and all," she said with a bite. "Where have you been?"

"I'll get into all of that later, I promise, Layla. Right now, I need you to keep it a secret that you've seen me. That means don't say anything to your fiance. Which, baby aside, what the hell is all of that about? He's way too old for you and has grown kids and I don't even understand how your paths crossed enough for this to happen in the first place."

"Rayna arranged for me to fly back on his private plane from Atlanta." Her voice was like ice.

"Oh."

"Luke is kind and gentle and takes care of me, and by the way, you two are like the same age. I was WRECKED after you...hell, I don't know what to call it now but it was "died," and he picked up the pieces you left shattered all over the place. He's been patient with me and yes, I slept with him not long after you were gone out of a desperate need to fill the gaping hole in my heart. I wasn't thinking clearly, and he was there." Her voice was as raw as the pain she felt right now. The initial awe and happiness at seeing him again had quickly faded to pure anger at his lies. Clearly, many lies were involved.

"I did what I had to do, Layla. I'd heard that you and Luke were starting to be seen together a lot, which sucked, but wow...engaged and pregnant? That was fast. And when I saw how pregnant tonight, it didn't add up- I saw that right off the bat and you're telling me Luke hasn't figured it out yet? He's a pretty smart guy. Now I'm risking EVERYTHING being here talking to you, but this baby is a curveball that I hadn't expected."

"What the hell are you talking about? You obviously faked your death on a huge scale and now you're talking in some weird code and honestly, I'm too confused to figure out what's going on. I can't believe I was in tears missing you tonight. Wishing you were here."

His expression softened and he took her hands in his, rubbing the tops of her hands with his thumbs the way he used to when he was trying to calm her down.

"I'm sorry. I really am. Can I meet you later to explain?" He squeezed her hands.

She nodded. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingering. "Remember, don't say anything to anyone about seeing me tonight."

And with that, he slipped back out the door. She sank onto the sofa, her mind a jumbled mess of questions, pain, and confusion, but even still, the slightest thread of sheer happiness that Jeff, her Jeff, was alive, no matter how livid she was with him.


	7. Chapter 7

"And the winner of 'Country Song of the Year' goes to newcomer Layla Grant, for her original song, 'Blind,'" Jennifer Nettles announced.

As excitement flooded through her, she stood, pulled her dress as into place as she could get it and stepping into the aisle, making her way up to the podium to accept her award to wild applause. She beamed, even if she couldn't catch her breath. She hugged Jennifer and took the heavy award from her before turning to face the audience.

"Thank you so much for this honor. So many people helped me get to this place- my label, Highway 65 Records headed up by the one and only, Rayna James, and of course, the head of A&R, Bucky Dawes. Also, Glenn Goodman, my current manager for continuing to push me. Most of all, I'd like to thank my sweet man, Luke Wheeler, for being my rock these past few months, and...,"she swallowed, "I can't forget someone that will always be in my heart- Jeff Fordham. I wouldn't be up here tonight if it wasn't for you, Jeff. Rest in peace, love." She blew a kiss at he sky as the audience stood and applause rang out again.

As she headed backstage, she briefly wondered if anyone remembered her tribute last fall and her admitting that she and her manager had been in love before crying her way through the song she'd written. Maybe that had something to do with the audience's hearty reaction. Jeff wasn't dead, but her mind had yet to process that information. She'd stuck with her original speech, even though she'd just talked to Jeff. Touched him with her own hands.

Layla picked her way through the crowded backstage, getting bumped to and fro by the frantic stylists, artists and crew members. The lace of her gown got caught on her heel and she almost tripped. To get out of the thick of things, she tried to back against a partitioned wall, but everyone was in such a frenzied state, running here and there as the show aired live that she couldn't pick her way through. She sure missed being able to squeeze into a size zero jeans right about now.

A strong hand grasped her waist and pulled her behind one of the black canvas walls.

"You're about to get trampled out there!" Jeff whispered loudly in the darkened area.

"I know that. What are you doing here?" she questioned after regaining her composure at being yanked behind a wall. She squinted, trying to see his face in the murky light shining through the cracks in the temporary walls.

"I couldn't leave before finding out if you'd won," he admitted. "Jade snuck me backstage."

"I'm sure she did," Layla remarked.

"Stop being so snide about her. It's not like that. Thank God I was back here because none of those people notice or care that you're about to have a baby."

"I'm not about to have a baby. I have about six more weeks to go," she argued.

"It was that time wasn't it? That one time when we hadn't seen each other in a while, and as soon as I opened the door," he murmured, his hands rubbing up and down her arms, "...we didn't even make it to the bed," he added.

Heat crawled up her neck and her face flushed, even though she could barely see his expression in the dim light. But his voice, low and familiar, brought back a flood of memories she'd pushed to the farthest recesses of her mind.

"That's my best guess." Her voice shook with nerves and desire.

"Or, it could have been what, one of fifty or sixty other times between the living room floor and sex in the shower in Atlanta..." he trailed off before continuing with an intimate voice as his fingertips lightly tracing along her shoulders. "Whenever I was in town, we spent more time naked in bed than we did anything else...am I right?" His face was barely an inch from hers.

She cleared her throat, trying to break the spell he had her under.

"You're exaggerating a little about how many times, but we were always careful except for that one time and then the shower in Atlanta," her cheeks flamed red. Before she could say anything else, he leaned down and captured her lips with his, searing her with a kiss both tempting and insistent. Her hands found their familiar place at the nape of his neck, fingers intertwining among his unruly hair he tried in vain to tame as she lost herself in the moment, kissing him like it might be the last time- she didn't trust that she still wasn't just going crazy and talking to a ghost right now.

"I know where there's a room if you want to-"

"You've got to be kidding me," she interrupted him, immediately pulled back from the ledge of wild and crazy and stepping away from him.

"What? I've missed you. I want to be with you. Is that such a crime?" he asked, trying to kiss her again.

"Um, yeah? First of all, I'm quite pregnant- having sex in a closet or dressing room or whatever isn't easy- there's lots of clothes and sequins going on here, not to mention I have no balance, and I-" she cleared her throat as her cheeks flushed, "let's just say I know how...wild...things can get with you. Second, I'm engaged, which makes what we're doing right now very wrong."

Jeff studied her face. "Do you think it freaks me out that you're so pregnant? That it would make me not want to be with you? Because it doesn't."

"Did I say that? No, I gave you strong, valid points as to why that isn't going to happen. Besides, with traveling and stuff right now, Luke and I thought it was best not to..." She stopped herself, putting a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, I see. You and your fiance don't think it's a good idea to continue having sex right now. Can I just say how much it bothers me that you've slept with him with my baby inside of you?" Jeff's voice said hotly.

"Can I just go back to the fact that you let me believe you were dead? You have no argument here," she cried.

His face relaxed and he took her hands and sighed. "You're right. I don't," he pulled her close one more time. "Congratulations on your win tonight, Layla, you deserved it. I'll get in touch with you to tell you everything that happened. Remember not to say anything to anyone," he said quietly, pulling her along the back of the makeshift canvas walls until they'd reached the exit back to the arena. His hand lingered, holding on to hers a minute more, bringing it to his lips and brushing a soft kiss against it before fading into the background as she stepped out from her hiding place back stage.

"Where have you been?" Luke asked as he saw her approaching their seats.

"Chatting and mingling backstage. It's a madhouse!" she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders as he stood to let her in the aisle.

"That was a nice acceptance speech," Luke said coolly, his lips brushing her cheek lightly before he helped her sit back down.

"Thanks, but I don't think you mean that."

"Oh, I do. Loved every bit of it except the part where you called Jeff your love and thanked him, a dead guy, like he was your everything."

"Luke, you're forgetting that he was my everything. I didn't choose to leave him."

Luke took his seat again and faced the stage, not saying another word.


	8. Chapter 8

_Meet me in Room 1276 after your fiance falls asleep. You know who this is._

Layla stared at the text from the unknown number. Luke was already in bed, but she was propped up on the sofa in their suite, scrolling through Twitter and checking out the pics starting to show up from that night's award show. She was still in awe that she'd won. And still freaking out a little about how she'd made out with Jeff, unable to help herself. She typed a quick response back to him:

 _Really? I don't think I know anything about whoever this is. Stalker much? How did you know we were staying here?_

 _Stop it, Layla. Everybody stays here. Will you meet me?_

 _Yeah, I guess so._

He didn't reply, so she deleted the messages and picked up a magazine from the cocktail table.

"Coming to bed, hon?" Luke's sleepy voice called from the bedroom.

"I've got a bad case of heartburn. You go to sleep, I'm waiting for this medicine to kick in before I even think about laying down," Layla told him. At least she didn't have to lie to him.

"Alright, well, goodnight, I love you," Luke replied.

"Love you, too," she said softly.

Layla waited twenty minutes for good measure before tiptoeing out of the room in her fuzzy socks to the sound of Luke's soft snores in the background. She walked down the carpeted hall wearing her gray robe and pajamas and took the elevator down to the twelfth floor. In less than two minutes, she knocked lightly on Room 1276's door, keyed up with way too much curiosity, anger, and, infuriatingly enough, love.

Jeff opened the door and took in her appearance- tousled bed hair, rounded basketball poking out of her robe and striped socks.

"Really dressed to impress there, huh?" he laughed.

She scowled at him and punched his shoulder as she walked past him and into the room.

"Like you have room to talk. Besides, I came for answers, and I don't want to end up spending the whole time I'm here fending you off," she replied, giving his lounge pants and t shirt a once over.

Jeff closed the door and stood in front of her, staring down at her, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her face.

"Let's not do the fighting thing- especially if you're not going to let us make up the way we make up," he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her.

"Okay," she whispered, irritation and anger flying away as he pulled her close. He had to lean over a little to accommodate her new silhouette. With her cheek against his chest, she was home. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his woodsy cologne and listened to the beat of his heart. She could stay like this, in his arms swaying a little back and forth, forever. But like so many times in the past couple of months, the moment she was comfortable, the baby decided to completely change positions or something.

"What the heck was that?" Jeff asked, jumping back a little. Layla laughed at his freaked out expression. She took his hand and lead him to the edge of the bed, pulling him down to sit next to her, and placed his hand on her stomach. The baby continued it's re-positioning- moving so strongly that they watched her stomach jump and a wave of motion move across it.

"This is seriously freaking me out," Jeff admitted as he stared at the movement.

"What's freaking me out is the fact that you're sitting on this bed me with me right now," Layla told him, ready to find out some answers.

He turned to face her, propping one leg up on the bed as she leaned back on her hands. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're not comfortable," he said, standing up and holding his hands out to her.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"Layla, come on. I know you. That little wrinkle between your eyebrows and the way you're biting your lip means you're uncomfortable. You looked just like this on the way to LA that time when your foot kept falling asleep on the plane."

"Okay, you got me," she rolled her eyes and let him help her up. "My back is killing me pretty much all the time now, but after tonight it's really achy."

He guided her to the head of the bed and helped get her situated with three pillows behind her. "Better?" he asked.

"Much. Now stop stalling."

Jeff walked around the bed and sat down beside her, leaning against the upholstered headboard and crossing his ankles. Layla folded her hands and laid them on her full lap, waiting him out.

"I really did fall. And I got hurt bad. Broke my arm in a few places, my hip and a bunch of ribs, too. But I didn't hit the pavement. I hit the balcony two floors below that rooftop. Juliette was so far gone...I'm really surprised she didn't end up following me down. Anyway, Luke's publicist called when I was taken to Atlanta Medical and no joke- I'm going in and out of consciousness and she's telling me that if I want this job, I need to fake my death in hopes that Juliette will get scared straight and stop wreaking havoc on Luke's label. I'm so out of it from the pain and loopy from the meds, I just agreed. I immediately got moved, quite uncomfortably, I might add, to another facility outside of the city. They contacted my family and got them on board with selling the story of my death- they're a cold bunch, and it made them money to be quiet, so they were happy to play along."

Jeff continued, "Knowing I would want to get back to work as soon as I recuperated, her team contacted Jade St. John, who she also works for by the way, and they placed me here to work with her branding team incognito last month while Juliette works on her sobriety. Jade doesn't give enough of a damn to tell anyone whether I'm alive or not and she's still pissed as hell at you.

"I bet she hates me. But Jeff, if you could tell your family and Jade that you weren't dead, why didn't you tell me? And what did Juliette have to do with your falling?"

"I'm still on strict orders not to contact anyone from Nashville, especially you, or it's all for nothing. It had to be believable, and Gabriella didn't think you would be able to keep it a my girlfriend was a crying mess, then no one would doubt the realness of the situation. Juliette was on the roof about to jump and I tried to stop her. That's how I ended up losing my balance and falling."

Layla stared at him as she gripped handfuls of coverlet. A lump rose in her throat and hot, angry tears stung her eyes. After a couple of minutes passed, she swung her legs off of the bed and struggled to get up.

"Wait. Say something, please. What are you doing?" Jeff asked. Finally on her feet, she whipped around, straightening her robe and pulling down her pajama shirt that liked to creep up and show off the baby.

"There's not really anything for me to say. You pretty much made choices to put Juliette and a job over me. You went as far as to let me believe you were dead. Trying to save Juliette was a brave thing to do, but it was dangerous. You really could've have died, but faking your death for a job? Jeff, that's low...even for you. And Luke's brand is hardly a thing anymore. SO you've been cozying up with Jade while I'm crying myself to sleep for months on end, pregnant with your baby and it's all for nothing now!"

"You've got it wrong, Layla. Luke's brand may be down the toilet, but his label is going strong. Gabriela told me that for all I've gone through, there WILL be a place for me among the directors and a huge percentage of shares. Don't you understand? Even managing you and Juliette, I couldn't keep my head above water- the debt was getting out of control. I was just waiting for the go ahead to contact my clients, family...and you now that things have settled down. God, it's been so hard, Layla. I've picked up the phone so many times to call you. When I heard you were dating Luke...I'm not going to lie, it hurt- I was ready to call the whole thing off. I managed to stop myself, because I knew you didn't know- I couldn't expect you to grieve forever, but when you showed up here tonight...engaged...and pregnant, I couldn't take it anymore."

"I mean, what was your plan? Waltz back into Nashville and into my bed conveniently no longer dead? Everything was just supposed to return to normal? I would just dump Luke like it wasn't a big deal?" Layla questioned as she paced the small floor.

"No, I knew it would be difficult. But it's not like I'm some major public persona. And the right PR firm can spin the right story for the media."

Layla crossed her arms. "I really don't know what you expect me to do. Wait around for you? What if you end up changing your mind and staying here with Jade? Speaking of...have you slept with her?"

"No, of course not. I haven't cheated on you all these months because I knew you were alive and I hoped you would find a way to forgive me. But in all fairness, you don't hear me asking about you and Luke."

"You most certainly did, Jeff. I told you I slept with him not long after your fake death because I was out of my mind trying to dull the pain."

"Layla, you're pregnant. It's not his. It's mine. I think that makes things a little more complicated, don't you? And gives me a bit of right to know when you slept with him. I'm sorry if it bothers you that I have a problem with the whole Luke thing," Jeff griped.

"He doesn't know that the baby isn't his, and anyway, he's really good for me," Layla shot back. "Being with him makes me feel safe...and good."

Jeff hopped up from the bed and grabbed her arms, his brows furrowed.

"You're really going to stay with him, continue this lie, even though you know I'm alive? You know what we mean to each other," Jeff argued, leaning in close.

"I don't know, Jeff."

"How could you not know?"

"Well, I mean so little to you that you had no problem letting me grieve your death. If you felt anywhere close to the way I feel...I mean felt about you...the way I loved you...you would have never let me go through that," she hissed, struggling to remove herself from his grasp.

"Listen to me, Layla...I didn't want to do that. The way it was presented gave me no choice- it's not like I planned the whole thing. I told you I was going to contact you- it was going to be very soon since Juliette is out of rehab and finished with treatment."

"But Luke doesn't even work with Gabriella now, and he thinks you're dead, too."

"I know- one of the reasons I've kept quiet while I waited for it to work out. I'm in contact with her and she's working diligently to get me on the board. In the meantime, working with Jade hasn't been all bad. I've learned a lot about overseeing a brand- even if that's not what I'll be doing at Wheelin' Dealin' Records. If I end up with a position there at all now- seeing as you're engaged to the head of that label, and he thinks he is the father of my child, I'd say we have a problem that won't clear itself up anywhere in the near future."

"Let me go, Jeff. I have to go." Layla couldn't take it anymore. She didn't care about his job prospects. She just had to get out of there. Her insides were boiling as she clenched and unclenched her hands and any second now, she was going to crack and burst into tears and she refused to let him see her cry again tonight.

He released his grip on her arms. "Where are you going? We have to figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out. As far as I know, you're dead, remember?" She stormed at him before turning on her heels and stomping out of the room. Trudging to the elevator, she pressed the button and hung her head as the tears started to fall. She put her hand over her heart in disbelief. How could she have ever guessed that her heart could hurt more than it did the day he "died"?

Two gentle hands rested lightly on her shoulders. "Layla," he whispered near her ear, "Please don't go. Please, not like this."

"Why should I stay?" her voice cracked and she sniffled.

"Because...I love you." The words washed over her, words she'd ached to hear for months on end, but now...how could she even believe them?

"You choose to tell me that now?" she sobbed.

"I loved you long before now, and...I'm so sorry I never told you."

"This is all too much for me. I don't think I can do this." She shook her head.

"So, you're going to go back and crawl into bed with Luke?"

"He is my fiancee, you know." She took in deep gulps of air as her stomach tightened painfully.

"But what about us? What about the baby? You're still going to pass the baby off as Luke's?"

She winced and hunched over as a pain shot around her stomach.

Wait, Layla, you don't look so good. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I have to go now- she deserves better than this. She deserves a stable home, a mother and a father who'll always be there when she needs them," Layla cried as the elevator opened. Jeff's eyes glanced down to where her waist used to be.

"Did you say 'She'? Are we going to have a girl?" he asked.

She stepped onto the elevator and punched in her floor number. As she stood there in her pajamas, unable to hold in the sobs any longer, the door closed, leaving Jeff in the hallway, eyes full of worry and questions.


	9. Chapter 9

"Can we head back to Nashville this morning? I'm ready to get home," Layla asked Luke as soon as his eyes opened the next morning.

"Good morning to you, too, sweetheart," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Can we go home?" she repeated.

"I thought you wanted to go shopping and have lunch first?"

"I did, but now I'm just anxious to get home," she said softly, glancing down at her belly where her hands sat.

"Everything okay?" Luke asked, sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm just feeling nervous, and I want to be home in case anything happens."

"If that's how you feel, then I'll call Harry and get him to ready the plane," he said, leaning over and giving her a kiss. "What's wrong, Layla? You seem tense," he said as he lifted his head.

"I've been having a few random contractions, that's all. I think it's just those Braxton Hicks things, but I'd just rather get back to my doctor," she admitted, leaving out the other stuff that added to her stress.

Luke sat up straight and grabbed his phone. "Layla, we can't fly back without getting you checked out first. My ex-wife went into labor early with Sage and it just about killed her and the baby, too. I'll get my assistant to find a good doctor out here and set up an appointment as soon as possible."

"Luke-"

"Nope. No arguments. It's better to be safe than sorry. I won't risk your health or the baby's either." He already had the phone to his ear.

Layla sighed. This was getting too complicated. She was pretty sure the random dull aches weren't a big deal, and she needed to put as much distance as possible between her and Jeff. And what if Luke found out she was much further along than he believed her to be?

"I guess I'll take a shower and get ready to see the doctor then," she mumbled, resolving to her fate as that strange pain crept around her waist again.

Layla gripped the uncomfortable bed's plastic guardrails. When she woke up that morning from a night of fitful sleep next to Luke after leaving Jeff's room, she never dreamed that she'd watch the daylight behind the blinds in a Cedars-Sinai hospital room fade into darkness as she officially went into labor.

Thirty four weeks. Far enough along that the baby had a great chance of growing and developing correctly, and more than likely wouldn't need too long of a NICU stay as long as everything went smoothly. But it was still too early, and all this was happening thousands of miles from her home. Layla sobbed. She hadn't even packed a hospital bag yet. Or set the nursery up. Or even thought seriously about names. She wasn't even close to ready for this.

Luke hopped up from one of the chairs by her bed. "What's wrong, babe?" he said, the worry lines on his face looking more pronounced than usual as he rubbed her shoulder. On top of her own pain and worry, guilt for lying to Luke spread through her. He thought the baby was much smaller than it actually was, and she'd yet to tell him otherwise. Keeping him in the dark was putting the both of them through hell right now.

"Everything," she cried miserably as she leaned her head back against the bed, sweat beading up across her forehead.

"They said it wouldn't be much longer. Are you sure you don't want pain meds?" he asked, wiping her face with a cool cloth. She pushed it away.

"NO!" She shouted, shaking her head furiously- mad at herself for being mad at him, but in so much pain, she couldn't stop herself.

"Sweetie, I just want to help you," Luke soothed.

"Just go away, I need to be by myself for a minute. This really sucks, Luke," she whimpered.

He studied her face, saw her seriousness and nodded his agreement.

As he turned from the bed to leave, a sharp knock on the door caused them both to look up and at each other in confusion.

"Who the hell is that?" Layla asked, her fuse short with pain and exhaustion.

"Glenn? Rayna?" Luke ventured, trying to remember who he'd contacted and who he hadn't in the past seven hours they'd spent in that claustrophobic room. He crossed the room and swung the door open.

"What the hell?" Luke's stunned voice rang out. Layla strained to see who it was, but the room was set up to give the patient privacy, so the door and whoever was behind it was blocked from her view. But she heard the voice, and she gasped before putting her hands over her face.

"I'm here to see, Layla."

"We thought you were dead," Luke managed to get out after a beat.

"Layla knows I'm alive. Look Luke, what's going on right now is bigger than me or you. I don't have time for explanations- I need to see her. Now."

"She's real busy at the moment giving birth to our baby, so I'm afraid you're gonna have to speak to her at another time," Luke said sternly, refusing to budge.

"Let him in," Layla called out, her voice cracking. Her need to see him far outweighed her concern over hurting Luke.

Jeff pushed past an unmoving Luke and hurried over to the hospital bed. When his eyes locked with Layla's terrified ones, he perched on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. She grabbed onto him for dear life, finally letting go of all of the pain, fear and stress, and just bawled her eyes out. He cradled her head and kissed her hair, whispering over and over, "I'm here now. Everything's okay," as she soaked his shirt with her tears. His presence never ceased to make her feel safe when her world was flipped on its axis.

Luke went unnoticed by either of them as he leaned against the wall, blending into the background. He shook his head, watching his fiance happily being comforted by the arms of someone else. Moments earlier, she'd told him she wanted to be left alone. For him to go away, and he'd understood even if it was tough- if she wanted space, he'd give her space. But now, she was clinging to a man he'd known to be dead up until the moment he'd opened that door. A man he knew she loved. A man that had just said, without really saying it, that the baby she carried was his. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to know if what Jeff implied was true or false? It wasn't the time to confront Layla about any of this- he had a heart and the girl was in labor something awful. He rubbed his jaw- this was unprecedented territory for him.

When she finally started to calm down, her sniffles growing further apart, another contraction wracked her body, and she grabbed Jeff's arms, groaning until it passed.

"You've got this," Jeff told her.

"What are you doing here right now? How did you know?" she asked when she could talk again.

"I heard a rumor that you and Luke had been seen checking in here today. I called your phone, you didn't answer...I have my ways of finding out things, and I had to know if everything was okay," he admitted.

"It's too soon." Layla's face crumpled.

"Hey, shh, no, don't say that. It isn't that bad. Eight and a half months right?" he comforted, tilting her chin up and catching a tear with his thumb.

"She's only 29 weeks, Jeff," Luke interrupted, stating what he knew to be the truth.

"Uh, no. She's not," Jeff replied, never looking away from Layla, "she's eight and a half months pregnant, Luke."

"Layla?" Luke questioned, feeling shot in the gut.

"Luke, I'm so so sorry. I didn't know how to tell-" She stopped mid-sentence as another contraction hit.

"Just focus on the baby right now, Layla. Forget everything and everybody else," Jeff coached, glancing away long enough to shoot Luke a pointed glare.

"I'll be outside," Luke said stiffly, leaving the room.

"Where's he going?" she asked, her face scrunched in pain.

"Just outside. Don't worry," Jeff told her.

"I feel so bad for doing that to him," she lamented, breathing heavily, "I don't know if I can do this," Layla moaned.

"Have you had an epidural?"

"No, I'm not doing pain medicine," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because of what they can do..bad memories," she told him.

"Oh," he said softly.

They passed the next hour in a similar pattern. He'd wipe her face, hold her hands as she bore the pain, and try to soothe her as best he could.

Finally, the doctor on call and a nurse bustled into the room to check her progress. Jeff jumped up from where he sat beside her, but Layla clenched his hand. "You're not leaving me," she stated.

He nodded, standing and holding her hand as the doctor, an older man with a kind smile, checked to see how things were going.

"Alright, it's that time, Ms. Grant. You're fully dilated and as soon as we have the incubator and crib brought in, I'll get you to start pushing."

"Okay," she agreed as her heart started to race. Everything was happening so fast- as much as she wanted the pain to be over, she still wasn't ready for this.

"You'll be here the whole time? You won't leave me?" she peered up at Jeff with wide eyes, a death grip on his arm.

"Nothing could take me away," he swore, brushing strands of stray hair away from her face as he met her gaze.

Two more nurses entered the room pushing a portable incubator and another cart with a large light centered over it. They set everything up in one corner of the room, while the nurse that had arrived with the doctor changed out Layla's IV fluid.

A team surrounded her, moving levers and rails to change the bed into a birthing table, pulling stirrups out and helping Layla get situated.

"Can you hold this leg?" one of the nurses asked a wide-eyed Jeff.

He nodded silently, doing as he was told, putting one arm beneath her knee and still holding her hand with the other.

"Okay, Layla, on my count, start pushing. When I tell you to stop, stop," the doctor instructed. In so much pain, and in desperate need to push, Layla barely heard him, but murmured something unintelligible in agreement.

Fifteen minutes of pushing and stopping passed. Then another thirty. At the hour and fifteen mark, Jeff, unable to watch Layla, weak with exhaustion and sick with pain, suffer any longer, spoke up. "Excuse me, how much longer, doctor? I don't think she can handle much more."

"First babies can take a while. You're doing so good, Ms. Grant, we're almost there," the doctor coached.

Soaked with sweat and so tired she couldn't think, Layla barely nodded her head.

"The baby is crowning! Now, push hard!" the doctor exclaimed a few minutes later and she perked up, resolved to do what she needed to do.

"The head is out, we just need one more of those big pushes, Layla," the doctor said.

"You can do this, Layla. You've got this," Jeff encouraged.

She pushed with all her might.

"There we go. She's all out. Your baby is here!" the doctor announced, holding her up briefly before whisking her over to the medical team. "Since she's quite early, we've got to make sure her airways are clear, but no need to worry, we'll get her bundled up and in your arms in no time flat."

After seeing a glimpse of the baby, Layla's head fell back against the bed, her hair damp and stuck to her face as tears of exhaustion and relief seeped from her eyes.

As worn out as she was, her ears stayed on alert, waiting to hear what she needed to hear. What every mother needed to hear. A few seconds passed, but she heard nothing other than the bustle of the doctor and nurses working feverishly, communicating quietly. She glanced over at Jeff, whose hand she still clenched in her own.

"Why isn't she crying?" she asked weakly as a heavy blanket of exhaustion fell over her. Jeff's worried face turned to her. He rubbed her hand in his.

"I'm not sure. Don't worry, I'll find out, okay?" Jeff reassured her, but before he got up to find out, a clear cry filled the room. They both let out the breath they were holding as the precious sound steadily grew louder.

"I'd never thought I'd be so happy to hear a crying baby," he said shakily. "I can't believe..I mean... You're amazing, Layla," He leaned over and kissed her, uncharacteristically too emotional to speak.

Tired and happy, Layla let him kiss her, but only briefly. She wanted to get her hands on the baby.

"Dr. Harper? Can I hold my baby now?" she called out after a few more minutes passed, trying to get any of the scrub-clad team's attention. No one answered, just continued to steadily focus on poking and prodding the baby. She guessed that was what they were doing- she couldn't see anything beyond the huddle of blue. She shot a panicked look up at Jeff and squeezed his hand harder.

"Let me see if I can find anything out," he told her, leaving her side for the first time since he'd entered her room hours earlier.

Layla watched as he walked across the room.

"Excuse me, Layla and I are wondering how the baby is doing?" she heard him ask as he tried to peer past the team surrounding the baby.

"Her heart rate is a little bit lower than we'd like and she's having some apnea episodes. We see this a lot in preemies, so we're going to get her settled in an incubator with oxygen and monitor her very closely while we run a few tests to rule out any other complications," the doctor explained, never turning away from the baby.

"Can I hold her? Why can't I see her?" Layla called out, her voice taking on an edge of panic.

"In due time, Ms. Grant. Right now, our main concern is your daughter's breathing and heart rate. We have to take her to the NICU to be closely monitored for now," the doctor called out to Layla.

"But couldn't she just hold her for a minute?" Jeff asked the doctor, eyeing Layla.

"I'm afraid not- we need to run tests and hook her up to a CPAP as soon as possible," Dr. Harper said softly.

A few seconds later, Jeff and Layla watched as the team started to wheel the baby out of the room.

"Follow them, Jeff," Layla said desperately. "I can't go, but you can. Make sure she's going to be okay."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" Jeff asked as he glanced toward the door then down at Layla, feeling torn.

"I'll feel so much better if I know one of us is with her."

"Okay," he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead before hurrying out of the room to catch up with their baby.

A soft knock and a door opening stirred Layla from the few minutes of sleep she'd managed to catch. She sat up, hoping it was Jeff bringing her news on the baby. But it wasn't Jeff.

"Hello, Layla," Luke said, rocking back and forth on his heels looking just to the left of her.

"Hi," she said, her voice raspy from groaning and crying so much earlier.

"I'll only be a minute- I'm sure you're tired. How's the baby?"

"I'm not sure- hopefully okay- she was taken to the NICU and Jeff went with them," she told him.

"So, she's really not my daughter is she?" Luke asked sadly. Layla, already emotionally strung out, blinked back tears as she shook her head slowly, eyes cast down.

"I'm sorry, Luke- I didn't know about Jeff being alive until last night. He was dead, I was scared, and you were...there. I wasn't sure you weren't the father until my first doctor's visit. I promise, I didn't want to hurt you."

"Too late for that now." He hung his head.

"Luke, believe me when I say that I loved you. You made a terrible time bearable for me. You were my rock and I can never thank you enough for that, but for all Jeff and I have gone through, and honestly, I'm not sure how we can get through this, I love him in a way that makes no sense and I can't change that. He's also the father of my child, and I can't change that either," she said reaching for his hand.

Luke took her hand and kissed it. "Layla, you deserve better than him. He lied to you, and I was the one holding you while you sobbed at night...because of his lies. I know there's nothing I can say that will make a difference, but please keep your guard up," he said, sadness behind his attempt to smile.

"I will, Luke. I can promise you that."


	10. Chapter 10

Layla spent the rest of the short night dozing in and out, completely exhausted from spending an entire day in labor- worry over the baby she'd yet to hold keeping her from getting much rest. When she finally drifted into a sound sleep, a tech woke her up when he came in at seven to draw her blood. After that, a dietician dropped off her breakfast tray while she called Jeff. Other than a text that she should try and rest because the baby was stable, and that all they were doing was just waiting for test results, she hadn't heard anything in a few hours.

"How is she?" Layla asked as soon as he answered.

"Her doctor said that after your doctor sees you this morning and gives the okay, I can roll you down to the NICU so you can see her," he said.

"Really? I'll be seeing her soon?"

"Yes, but Layla, she's probably going to be in the NICU for several days...maybe even a couple of weeks. Now that you're up, I'm heading your way."

"Jeff, what about the baby?"

"She's doing good. No apnea episodes in the last couple of hours, and there are nurses everywhere. Trust me, she's in good hands. I'm just a bystander and I want to check on you, too. See you in a minute."

She sat her phone on the bedside table and leaned back against her pillows, her hand going to her messy hair. No doubt, if she looked half as tired as she felt, it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

He knocked lightly and let himself in. She sat up and straightened the cotton blanket.

"Good morning, beautiful," he smiled, his eyes red and bleary.

"Jeff, you look exhausted," she said as he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"You look pretty tired yourself," he replied, smoothing back a few flyaways that had fallen in her face.

"It's been a really long 24 hours," she sighed.

Jeff ran his hands through his hair and let out a deep breath before taking seat in the chair across from her bed.

"We need to talk, Layla."

"We sure do. What's going on with our baby? I can't believe she doesn't have a name and that I haven't even held her. Have you?"

"No, I've only held her hand. Right now, she's listed as 'Baby Fordham.' I filled out the information on the NICU card, but nothing official. I thought the name might throw off any fans hoping to sneak a peek once the news gets out that you had your baby. I hope that was okay?" He asked with eyebrows raised.

"She is yours, no matter what happens between us, that isn't changing," Layla shrugged.

"Have you spoken to Luke?"

"He came to see me after..."

"What did he say? Do you think he'll open up to the press?" Jeff leaned forward nervously in his chair.

Layla shook her head fiercely. "Oh no. Luke has came a long way since his Rayna James fiasco. He's super private, and I know he really cares about me. He won't say anything about what happened."

"Are you two...okay?"

"We broke up if that's what you're hinting toward. I've hurt him, and I hate it."

"Layla, it was for the best. You didn't love him-I could tell."

"But that leaves me...alone now. I'm a single mother."

"I'm here."

"Are you Jeff? What are we going to do? Are you 'officially' dead or was it just a cover up? Are you going to stay in hiding? You do know, once the baby gets out of the hospital, I'm going back to Nashville with her."

Jeff stood and walked to the foot of her bed and grabbed the rails.

"Damn it, Layla. I said I'm here and I mean it. I'm not going to leave you to do all of this by yourself. How are you going to be able to care for an infant and tour? If you don't tour, how will you pay the bills? Are you still living in that shitty house?"

"It's not shitty!" Her voice raised, she added, "But I don't live there- I moved in with Luke a couple of months ago and Will took the house back. So, I'm actually homeless at the moment now that I have a second to think about it! And I have a decent bit of money set aside from my album sales. I'd planned on taking off for a few months. Luke had already put a stop to me touring- he was really worried about the stress it could cause." She looked down at her chipped nail polish, a fresh tug of guilt on her heart.

"Hey, I'm not trying to attack you. I want to be here. I want to be a part. I know we have a lot to figure out, but she's worth it...you are worth it." He grabbed her foot playfully but she pulled away.

"I'm not going to bring up anything that's going to get me more stressed out than I already am, so all I'm going to say is that if you want to be a part of our daughter's life, I'm glad, but as far as the two of us go, I don't know how that's going to play out, Jeff."

"Well, first things first. She's our priority, right?"

Layla nodded.

"You're going to get discharged tomorrow probably," Jeff guessed.

"More than likely."

"You can stay with me while she's in the NICU here, even though I'm sure you're going to want to stay here with her as much as possible. My apartment isn't but a few blocks from here."

"I will stay here as much as they let me, but thanks. I'll need a place to stay when I can't be here and to shower and stuff, but just so you know, I'm only agreeing because it's close and the idea of staying alone and going through having to find somewhere temporary doesn't sound like something I want to place my focus on."

"Well, for all of our sakes, I'm glad you're willing to stay with me. Now onto the next order of business. Our kid needs a name."

"I know! I feel terrible that she's nearly one day old and has no name," Layla added.

"Any ideas?"

"I'd thought about Gemma?"

Jeff wrinkled his nose.

"Celeste?"

"No way. I dated a girl named Celeste," he said making a face.

"Well, do you have any suggestions?" she asked, throwing her hands up.

"How about something a little more classic?"

"But I want her to be an original."

"That doesn't mean she needs to have a name that sets her up to be bullied."

"I do really like the name Monroe, but I was leaning more towards it being a middle name," she told him.

"I'm not opposed to that as a middle name."

"You sure have an opinion about this."

"It's her name forever, Layla. It's a big deal."

"What about Addison Monroe? We could call her Addie when she's small, but Addison will sound sophisticated when she gets older, and it would make a good stage name, too."

"Assuming she wants to be in the music industry," Jeff said. Layla noticed he didn't contest her suggestion.

"And why wouldn't she with two musical parents?" Layla asked.

"I'm just saying, she can make her own path in the world. She doesn't have to follow either of ours."

"Definitely not yours." Layla couldn't help herself. Jeff rolled his eyes.

A knock at the door announced the arrival of the doctor making his morning rounds.

"You're healing well, Miss Grant. You should be able to leave tomorrow, but I hear your daughter will be here with us for a little while?" the doctor asked after he'd checked her.

"I suppose so. I haven't had a chance to meet with her medical team yet. Jeff said I could be rolled down to the NICU if it was alright with you?"

"You can walk if you'd like," the doctor told her.

"That sounds great. I'm really tired, but I've been itching to move around and take a good shower."

"I don't see anything wrong with that. Just take it easy and go slow, alright?" The doctor patted her shoulder and left the room.

"Can I help you..." Jeff trailed off, gesturing toward her.

"Um, yeah. Do you mind grabbing that suitcase in the corner and sitting on the bed?" She pointed to the jade green rolling bag near the door.

"Luke dropped your stuff off?" Jeff asked as he picked up the large bag.

"He had someone stop it by before he left for Nashville late last night. He's been really nice and much more understanding than I expected, Jeff," Layla said as Jeff sat the bag down and she scooted off of the bed for the first time in hours. Jeff jumped to her side and put a steady arm behind her in case she needed it.

She felt shaky, out of sorts and more sore than she ever imagined possible, but she needed to get moving. She held onto his arm. "I'm okay, just tired," she assured him.

"You don't have to put a brave face on for me." He rubbed her back as she dug through her bag.

"I'll just be a minute," she said as she pulled out her gray robe and pajamas and shuffled slowly to the bathroom. Maybe walking to the NICU wasn't such a good idea after all.

Five minutes later, teeth brushed, hair pulled back and wearing something other than a flimsy hospital gown, Layla emerged from the bathroom.

"I need to shower, but Addie comes first," she said, smiling as she tried out the name for the first time and then tilted her head in confusion at the sight that greeted her. "What's this?"

Jeff pushed the wheelchair toward her. "I know the doctor said you could walk, but NICU is on the next floor. You had a hard time walking a few feet to the bathroom."

She settled into the seat and sighed in relief. "I was already worried about that. I hadn't expected my legs to feel like jelly."

"Let's go see, Addie," he said as he pushed her into the hall and to the elevator bank.

Layla's heart thudded and adrenaline coursed through her veins as he wheeled her by the regular nursery and she noticed a few babies bundled up and heard one crying loudly.

"Not much further," Jeff leaned down and whispered close to her ear and she nodded.

They rode the elevator up to the next floor and he spoke with the unit secretary who opened the secure doors for them to enter the NICU unit.

"She's still in the main area," Jeff told her as they passed a few private rooms and came into an open area with curtained off spaces. He talked with the nurse on duty, letting her know they were the parents of "Baby Fordham." The nurse had them wash and sanitize their hands before she escorted them to the third curtain and that's where Layla laid eyes on their baby for the first time since her brief glimpse after giving birth to her.

"She's just as perfectly beautiful as I remembered." Layla's voice cracked as Jeff helped her out of the wheelchair. She reached her hand into Addison Monroe's incubator and ran her fingers over her tiny little hand and arm. Her skin was so soft!

Despite the oxygen tube, IV and heart monitors, in her pink and blue striped hat and itty bitty diaper, Addie slept peacefully. "She's just so...beautiful," Layla said, overwhelmed with love for this tiny human she'd just met.

"Like her mother and just like her mother, she has a head full of dark hair," Jeff said, stepping close to her and putting his arm around her. Layla instinctively rested her head against his shoulder.

"Hi, Addie, I'm your mommy," Layla said quietly, not wanting to disturb the little darling's sleep.

Jeff stepped away from her just long enough to pull a chair up next to the incubator so Layla could sit.

"The nurse just told me the doctors will be making their mid-morning rounds any minute, so we'll get a chance to talk to them together," Jeff told her.

"I hope we hear good things and she won't have to be here long," Layla said, unable to pull her eyes away from the sleeping infant.

"I hope so, too," Jeff said, his own gaze settled on mother and child.


	11. Chapter 11

A week went by. Then two. Layla spent hours upon hours at the hospital- keeping watch by Addie's bed, her little lungs slowly starting to cooperate, her tiny, bow-shaped lips finally able to start taking a half an ounce or so of the milk she tirelessly pumped. Jeff watched helplessly as exhaustion seeped in, along with a restlessness driven by the innate need to care for her daughter.

Staying by Addie's side, seeing her hooked up to tubes and machines while only being allowed to hold her once a day, combined with a lack of sleep and postpartum hormones wreaked havoc on Layla. Of course, he was tired, too. Continuing to work, being at the hospital with Addie as much as possible and trying to help Layla, still recovering from childbirth, left him worn out.

He could manage, though. Right now, his main concern was coaxing Layla, on the borderline of a breakdown, into leaving with him tonight and getting some rest before she lost it from sheer exhaustion. She hadn't been eating enough either, for that matter.

"Layla, why don't you let me take you home?" Jeff asked, his voice quiet as he stepped close to where she sat, her hand holding Addie's.

"I'm fine. She needs me. I don't want to leave," Layla said, her voice breaking. Jeff's heart broke along with it.

"You haven't left in two days straight. Whatever sleep you're getting can't be much. Dr. Henry told you this morning that you needed to go home and get some rest, take a shower and eat a good meal. Please, Layla, come with me," Jeff pleaded. Their baby stirred and Layla gently massaged her arm. He had to glance away at the look in her eyes, the deep longing to pick Addie up and soothe her. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because it was torture to watch. The first few days had been fine, but after that, not getting to hold or nurse her baby had started wearing thin on her. She knew that it was best for Addie, but her irrational heart didn't want to cooperate and Jeff couldn't say or do anything to make it better.

"What if I leave and she has another of those episodes? What if she stops breathing?"

"The nurses and doctors here are excellent. They know what to do if something were to happen. Addie hasn't had an apnea episode in two days, and if she did, they would call us and we could be back here in twenty minutes. Layla, she's doing great and getting healthier everyday. Now, you've got to take care of yourself. Let me help you- I can't watch you do this to yourself," Jeff crouched in front of her and put his hand on her face. Once, long ago, before their whole world shifted and changed, when he kissed her, he'd almost always caress her face. She'd look up at him with eyes full of hope and wonder and true, selfless love.

Tears spilled involuntarily from those same eyes now filled with worry and fear. She knew she was a mess. "What's wrong with me?" she whispered to him. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, catching a tear before it slid off her face.

"Nothing is wrong with you, baby," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You clearly love our little girl very much and you want to see her get strong and healthy enough to come home. You want to hold her and feed her and take care of her." She nodded and he continued, "but, you're not eating enough and you sure aren't getting enough sleep. Of course you're going to be on edge and upset if you are dealing with all of this after just having a baby and literally getting no sleep. Come home with me, get some rest, and I promise, you will feel a thousand times better when you see her pretty face in the morning," Jeff told her.

"The doctor really thinks I should leave?"

Jeff nodded. "He told me this morning to do whatever I could to coax you into leaving and getting some sound sleep in a real bed. And some real food, too." Layla needed to know that it wasn't just him that was concerned.

Layla closed her eyes and sighed. "I want what's best for Addie. If the doctor thinks that me leaving and resting and eating will help me make more milk and be a better mom, then I'll do it," she said, her shoulders sagging.

Jeff didn't like seeing Layla like this. He'd seen Juliette spiral completely out of control from postpartum depression and he'd be damned if he would watch Layla suffer the same fate. Not that this seemed to be the same type of situation, but still, he would continue to watch her very closely. If she needed more than just rest and a good meal to help her feel better, he sure as hell would make sure she got it.

"Thank you, beautiful. You have no idea how much you're doing for Addie just by taking care of yourself. You need to be strong to help her get strong," Jeff encouraged as he helped her stand up.

"Good night, Addie. Sleep well, baby girl," she told the sleeping infant, giving the baby's hand a final caress and blowing her a kiss. Jeff looked lovingly at the little doll as Layla bid farewell. In the past two weeks, he'd experienced more heartache and love than he'd ever known, reminding him why long ago, he'd decided to slam the door on anything that remotely resembled love. Now it was too late and here he was- desperate for two girls that held his heart hook, line and sinker.

"Come on, Layla, let's get going. It's already getting late," Jeff murmured, sliding an arm around Layla and guiding her toward the NICU unit's exit.

Once settled in his car, Jeff pulled out of the hospital parking deck as Layla stared out the window, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Random chips of black polish still clung to her nails and the deep circles beneath her eyes looked even darker against her pale skin illuminated by the trace of sunlight and the city lights whizzing by.

"I know I'm a wreck and you're wishing you wouldn't found out, that you could live your life in peace, free of me and my messed up self," she said into the silence, her voice quavering.

"Wait. What? Seriously, Layla? Where is this coming from?"

"Jeff, really? You left me. Alone. Thinking you were dead. If you think I'm crazy now, imagine me dealing with the death of someone I love. So, how on earth could someone so willing to throw me away when we were at our happiest want to deal with me now that things are hard and I'm struggling?" she cried.

Grief and guilt at what he'd done tore at him. He'd dealt with the guilt for months, knowing that he'd hurt her, knowing she probably wouldn't forgive him when she found out, trying hard to stop loving her. And then, seeing her on the monitors at that award show he shouldn't have even been at, glowing and very pregnant, he couldn't stop himself. Job be damned, he couldn't watch as the love of his life, clearly pregnant with his child, held onto the arm of another man. Although he'd promised Jade he'd stay in her dressing room or in the press room, out of sight from anyone who would recognize him or know his Nashville story, he had to go to her and he'd begged Jade to help him keep Luke distracted so he could talk to Layla.

"What the hell, Jeff? What's the big deal? She's obviously moved on," Jade had pointed out.

"You want to know the deal? The deal is that she's pregnant- very pregnant- and I'm pretty sure that isn't Luke's baby," he'd told her.

"Oh, oh my. That makes things complicated," Jade replied, softening on her stance. She'd eventually agreed to keep Luke out of the way while Jeff had snuck into the room he'd found out Layla had been set up in for a brief rest.

"Layla," he said, his eyes still on the road, "I have already told you how sorry I am- what I did was wrong, but that doesn't change the fact that for all my shortcomings and mistakes, I love you. I made the mistake of letting things get between us, and to my shame, I've hurt you too many times in the past. I'm not doing it again. I'm here and I'm not leaving you or Addie. I know you're dealing with hurt and anger I caused, recovering from childbirth, and the addition of everything that's going on with Addie. Please, just let me help you right now. Stop pushing me away- all I want to do is be here for you and for her," Jeff said, unshed tears pricking his eyes.

"I want to believe you," she whispered, fat teardrops plopping onto her hands now folded in her lap, "but I don't know if I can."


End file.
